


Freckles and Constellations

by you_cant_eat_books_sweetheart



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, RIORDAN Rick - Works, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: A gift!, College AU, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up Together, Highschool AU, I feel like these tags are extremely unprofessional in comparison to most of my works, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Nico, a couple of homophobic slurs, does anyone read all the tags though?, it's all good though, love thy sons, self discovery, solangelo, some little boys are just mean, there’s a playlist at the end, they make a promise, yes i did name this after the dodie song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24199300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_cant_eat_books_sweetheart/pseuds/you_cant_eat_books_sweetheart
Summary: A classic childhood best friends to lovers au for Delta_Rose.Prompt:"...Nico and Will have been friends since they were little. Even though they don't have a lot in common, they're still really close... Nico shocks everyone, including Will, by coming out. Afterwards Will can't stop thinking about Nico, he thinks it's because Nico waited so long to tell him, that is, until he has some less than innocent thoughts about his friend. So while Will is having this internal dilemma, Nico is so oblivious and acting like he always has around Will... Eventually Nico notices Will is acting weird, and he thinks it's because Will knows he's gay and doesn't want to be friends anymore..."While I didn't check every box on that list, I present;- Them being best friends since they were little-A not quite oblivious Will who can't stop thinking about Nico- A very oblivious Nico that can't stop thinking of Will-Some family angst-Nico's shocking coming out- A kiss- And a hint of smutI hope you enjoy
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, short-lived Nico di Angelo/Mitchell
Comments: 8
Kudos: 141





	Freckles and Constellations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Delta_Rose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delta_Rose/gifts).



> For Delta_Rose,  
> You've given me so much in the now 4+ years that I've been reading your works,  
> When I seen this prompt on your Tumblr I fell in love with it and new I needed to write it.  
> This isn't the Mona Lisa or the Sistine Chapel, it's not long or incredibly beautiful, but I hope you can enjoy it nonetheless.  
> It's the best 'thank you' I can give to an author who's updates kept me going even through the bad days.  
> So no, this isn't anything special, and it doesn't exactly fit your prompt, and it's a lot fluffier than something you would write.  
> But, Thank you, for literally everything.

Will Solace is a happy child, all big smiles and bright, sparkling eyes. A precocious child if his mother ever saw one, always getting into everything, always coming home with some new fact, some precious trinket of information that everyone else just needs to know.

He’s too smart for his own good.

Between kindergarten and Naomi playing smokey bars for extra cash on the weekend, she manages to find a way to pay for the testing. The problem is it’s a decent bit of cash and as a single mom, well, she just doesn’t have it.

So it’s save, save, save, because she has to finance her son’s future somehow. If that means she goes a little too long between haircuts, and she has to make do with the guitar strings she’s got in the junk drawer at home, so be it. Children never complain about eating macaroni or chicken nuggets a few too many times in a row for dinner.

Naomi’s on the phone with every child psychologist she knows, and every private school in Texas, but none of them want to let Will skip a few grades.

It's damaging, he’s too young, they tell her over and over again. Giving a rundown of statistics from this university or that corporation’s studies. But her son, he’s the one percent, he has a gift that the average person could only dream of.

He explained it to her for the first time, years ago, back before he could really even talk well enough for anyone but her to understand him. Will loved his documentaries, all he could talk about was the way bones grew, and why people had different colored eyes. He was always so bright eyed when he spoke of them, clapping his hands together and smiling from the center of a pile of index cards with the periodic table on them. Mama, he’d said simply, my synapses just work better. As if a toddler talking about synapses and neurons was a normal everyday thing, and not a phenomenon that people took extra care to mention in biographies.

Will sits next to her through some of the struggles, as she tries her best to give him the opportunity for his future that he deserves. Her son, who deserves more than a small town in Texas could ever give him. When Will isn’t with her, he spends time with his sitter (when she can afford it, of course). Will isn't like other children, and Naomi knows that. She doesn't want her son to live a life without a little challenge, she can't have him bored and becoming a delinquent because Texas can't offer him what he needs. She's just got to make other people believe in her son too.

What other kid do they know who could read at a seventh grade level when they were only eight? Just Will, he's the only one she's ever heard of.

Will, her constant ray of sunshine, is oblivious to all of it, _How was your day, Ma?_

* * *

Nico di Angelo grows up in a family with lots of money, he's got private tutors for anything he wants from the day he can ask for them. Ballet? Done. Piano, guitar, three types of dance, and Japanese lessons all by the time he’s seven. He’s mastered some, and teaching himself others. He’s a prodigy in ballet, he’sthe brightest kid any of his tutors have ever seen, he’s fluent in six languages and music.

He grows up in a multilingual household, his Mamma teaches him and his older sister Italian, and when Papa is home they speak Greek. English is used when checking out at the store, or playing with the neighborhood’s children, but never at home. His parents coo and chatter back and forth in their native tongues and the others they share; French, German, Spanish, and the small amount of Arabic they both know.

Bianca doesn't pick up on any of it too well, the words mix on the page before her eyes, and she confuses them. Words stir themselves on the pages in front of her, mix into a murky stew she can't possibly read. She's doing her fourth grade math lessons fine, but she's stuck in second grade with most of her languages; and she hasn't got much besides Italian, Greek, and English.

Despite her best efforts, she can’t read very much music, or play any of it by ear. She’s clumsy in comparison to Nico’s grace, stumbling over her feet as much as her words. She feels useless in her life, because, Mama, what’s the point of being two grades ahead of Nico if he already knows more than I do?

Nico somehow gets all of it, he just knows, he doesn't know how or why, or even who taught him. But he knows how to measure the degrees of an angle, and that circles are infinite. He speaks six languages before he’s even entered second grade in the American school system.

 _He’s smart, Maria,_ his Nonno says to his mother from across the kitchen at the family home in Italy while they’re visiting over summer vacation. It’s not something Nico is supposed to hear, a private conversation between adults (but he speaks French too, and they can’t hide anything from him now), he gestures between Nico’s parents, _You two should do something about it._

Bianca is tapping his shoulder, begging to know what they said, because she doesn't speak French. However she is a gossip, in love with knowing other people’s conversations and telling their stories with her friends. When Nico gives her the truth, the words spilling from his lips in hushed Italian, she crosses her arms and hurts, refusing to talk to him until the next morning. It's not the first time, or the last time that it happens, eventually Bianca quits asking him to translate for her, _I’ll figure it out myself, Nico._

Nico isn't the best in social situations, but he knows he did something wrong, he just can't exactly figure out what. He feels lost in his head, because none of the kids he interacts with at school can help, let alone understand; and he can’t talk to Bianca because she’s always mad at him, and anytime he brings it up to Mama or Papa, Bianca gets upset and storms off in pain to her room.

Nico is entirely alone in his head, consuming material and facts far above his age group. Alone, he lives in his mind, while he runs around outside, trying to understand what other children find fun about ‘playing pretend’. His parents think his daily escapades in the woods behind their house is him being normal, and Bianca (he’s come to believe), is happiest when he’s gone. Trying to play pirates or house with nothing but stuffed animals doesn’t work, and he doesn’t have anyone he wants to play house with; Nico doesn’t even want to play house. Although he doesn’t have the words for it, he feels broken, like everyone else is on a certain path and knows what’s going on and he didn’t receive the agenda (he learned that from Bianca’s spelling words).

Nico ends up trying to find frogs in the creek, but there aren't any; just a lot of bugs curled in on themselves under rocks, half buried in the mud. There’s an old playset with a little tower and swings hidden in the back corner at the end of their property, where vines grow over the tall and dark picket fence.

The swings are Nico’s best friend during his early school years.

* * *

In Texas, thousands of miles away, Will didn’t have words for what was going on with him either. Despite the fact that he did his best, friends of his own age were impossible to come by. He longed to hang out with the older children, his babysitter was fourteen and more fun than any of the other eight year olds in his class.

Will played with them alright, legos, painting, light up shoes, and the newest cartoons were things that he could bond with other children over. They’d babble over the new episodes, and what happened when you mixed paint colors.

With their legos, him and the other children would build spaceships or palaces. But when children would begin to paint stick figures with their fingers, or use their legos to play make believe, Will would taper off feeling confused at what was so fun about playing Star Wars over watching it, or why the Barbie dolls had to play together rather than each of them just getting their hair done and outfits changed.

His Ma was always frazzled, rushing about for this appointment or that and trying to meet her deadlines at work and still make it to her performances on time. Will felt wrong adding to her worries, he didn’t want to stress her out more over her son. He wanted her to slow down, to be happy, and to not worry so much about what school he was at.

Will could deal with his mean teacher constantly trying to set him back, and feeling alone among the other children, if only his Mom would relax.

When he finally does break, it’s months if not years of build up crashing down. It’s dark out, and he’s alone in his room, sleeping, as far as his Mom is aware. But he’s crying, ugly snotty tears rolling down his face, he’s hugging himself as he wanders down to his Ma’s room.

He knocks on her door as hard as he can with his little fists, one, two, three. Before he hears shuffling from the other side, he leans on the door’s trim while he waits for her to unlock her door.

When she does, Naomi is greeted with the sight of her son wrapped in a blanket with red eyes and tears streaming from them. His bare toes scrunched up in the carpet and his arms wrapped around himself in a shaky hug.

There's a hushing noise, and a _what's wrong, baby?_ As she runs a hand through his hair, trying to comfort him and subtly check his temperature.

Will’s led to his mother’s bed, where she leans against the headboard her legs criss-crossed. He climbs up into her lap and buries his face in the junction of her neck and shoulder, the tears only flow harder when she circles her arms around him.

His woes are stuck in the back of his throat with the thickness of his tears, but when they spill out they don’t stop. He wants to be normal, like all the other children, and he wants his Mom to slow down and not worry so much about him, he would be okay if she was happy. Will wanted to be less smart, so he wasn’t so odd and lonely, he wanted, he wanted, he wanted.

His mother’s head is alive with the plight of his words, and while Naomi knows that life isn’t fair, she will go through great lengths to trample as much dark as she can for her son. She vows to herself that something will be done for him, no matter what she has to trade for it.

Her son will not be sad because he isn’t like the other children, she wants him to be proud because of it.

* * *

When Nico’s parents heed his Nonno’s advice, he is moved from the private school near his home to a far more advanced one, in which he is only allowed to come home on the weekends.

While his family makes a big deal out of it, Nico does his best to shrug them off. It’s not a big deal, Mama, he whines trying to shrug off her kisses as well as he can without being too rude. Bianca seems almost ecstatic in his departure, she is being nicer to Nico than she has been in years. Cooing over him like he’s a baby again, and kissing his cheeks as she sees him off.

When Nico actually gets to the school?

It's the worst.

Lessons and lessons spewed forth from the professors’ mouths, and hundreds of pages of text he expected to memorize for his tests at the end of the week. Eight hours of classes would make any child exhausted, but if you add their drills on top of that… In short, it leaves Nico stumbling on wobbly legs back to his room where he has hours worth of homework due tomorrow.

The kids aren't very nice to him either, being the top of the class has him constantly ruining the teachers grading curve and making the rest of the boys look bad.

He’s also a lot smaller than most of the other kids he goes to school with, and Nico’s never had to fight for himself, which means they can push him down easily and he doesn't know how to throw a punch back.

They throw him down into the mud of the soccer field on a particularly cold day in late November, mocking him for his good marks and because he's just so obviously foreign since his calls home are conducted, more often than not, in another tongue.

Nico, rises to his feet, just as he has everytime before, but that time he swings and his fist hits its mark. He stands there, bloody kneed, and stained from the grass whilst the other boy’s cheek bruises.

His posse whispers behind him, but this time it's not a muttered, fag, when they trip him. They're whispering about the other boy, the one who _just got punched by a sissy_. There's guffaws and grumbles from within the pack, and some mutter as traitors, _look! He just got punched by a faggot- he’s probably one too!_

It's when the loud derogatory shouts of gay and fag mix together in chants that the other boy stops rubbing his face and looks at Nico, _you're gonna pay, you bitch._

One of the school’s nuns rushes across the greenery toward the commotion as fast as she can.

* * *

Their new car pulls up outside of a house that Will knows is far larger than anything his mother can afford; their poorness goes unspoken between them, a taboo topic that's never broached. But Will knows, even if his mother thinks he doesn't, he does. So he looks in awe up at the white sided house and then back at his mother, _Is it really ours? Is this really real?_ (Can we afford this?)

His Ma nods, asks for help with the bags, and kisses his forehead before telling him that they’ll explore once all of the bags they’ve brought themselves are in the new house.

Will rushes over because he loves exploring, whether that involves the local zoo, or just how much of each chemical makes the perfect elephant toothpaste, or finding the last word in a word search. He just loves all of it, Will’s a romantic through and through, he’s so absolutely in love with living.

They explore in the days before Will has school, their backyard which has a big yellowing garden for Will’s Mom to plant their favorite foods and make green again. Will can't stand the feeling of the dirt under his nails, or the thought of accidentally touching some sort of bug beyond a butterfly or ladybug. So his Mom will do it, because wouldn't it just be nice to have fresh strawberries in the summer?

Will nods from where he sits on the floor of their “will be living room” eating his sandwich.

So, in between the online schooling Will is doing for his first semester up North, he helps his Mom decide which seeds should go where, and he uses his particular research skills to help decide which plants will grow best in their new climate and which ones require the least tending to because his mom once managed to kill a cactus.

And slowly, little by little, they make their home here. Nestling themselves into a more urban lifestyle, doing their classwork together, there's a sitter there for Will most days because his Mom has an internship. Dress clothes and children's uniforms are purchased in preparation for the next semester, a new backpack and folders too. The windows of the kitchen fog over at night when his mother cooks and outside, despite the coldness of the earth, the plants in the backyard start to take root in the soil.

* * *

It's the first week of February when Mamma fixes his hair and collar once more before they enter the school building. His knees are cold from the gap where his socks and shorts don't meet in this school's uniform and Nico’s regulated coat only succeeds in keeping his upper body warm.

_Quit complaining, Niccolò, I think you’ll like the surprise._

There's a man in a wheelchair who greets them, there's handshakes and _it’s so nice to finally meet you’s_ from the two adults and an introduction, _this is Nico_. A kind smile, a greeting, and then, the declaration that gives way for all the potential energy building inside him to turn kinetic, _are you ready for sixth grade, Nico?_

He’s led through the school’s hallways, he’ll be starting halfway through the year and an hour late, but he already knows this. His brain is stuck on the idea that he will be starting sixth grade today, sixth grade and he’s only just turned nine a few days ago, sixth grade. He’s led around the school, shown all the different classrooms and told the name of every teacher despite the fact that by tomorrow he will surely have forgotten all of their names except for his own teacher’s. They turn down a hallway and walk, or roll in the principal's case, down a long tiled hallway towards the end of it where the main office is. They head back into the principal's personal office where a woman and another young boy are sitting. Mamma holds his shoulders from behind, her purse resting on her shoulder and Nico’s coat flung over her left arm as they stand in the doorway awaiting introductions.

The other woman, she is beautiful (just as all women are); long dark blonde curls that cascade down her back and bright features that make her sky blue eyes sparkle that much more. She’s dressed simply but elegantly, a pencil skirt and a business jacket that covers her printed blouse.

Her son sits in the green armchair next to her, honey blonde curls and eyes like cornflowers. He’s dressed in the same uniform as Nico, tan and beige plaid shorts, a white collared shirt beneath a dark blue sweater and tall socks pulled up to his knees. He swings his feet back and forth so lightly that his heels just so barely pass the front legs of the chair.

 _Nico, meet Will. Will meet Nico,_ the principal gestures between the two nine year olds, a shy wave is exchanged from both ends, and Nico worries his bottom lip, _I hope you two can be friends since you will be in the same sixth grade class._

Friends.

That would be nice, wouldn’t it?

* * *

They walk down to class together, the awkward shuffling silence of two people bad at communication colliding for the first time.

Will’s dress shoes make noise on the tiled building floors, and Will finds himself trying to adjust to walk more like the other, who’s steps are as steady and graceful as a cat’s. Nico, as he was introduced, keeps his eyes down at his feet, looking at his toes when he walks only glancing up every so often to check the room numbers so he can know when they find their class.

Will notices the other boy fidgeting with a keychain on the side of his backpack and he recognizes the character he clutches in his palm now, _do you play Mythomagic?_

Brown eyes look at him, fearful at first in the newness of the situation. But then they light up, as Will comes to learn that Nico is not necessarily shy, just guarded; filled with secret thoughts, knowledge, and his own intricate theses that he will never bother to actually commit to paper in all his years. But as the moment is, Will is just happy that this other person actually knows what Mythomagic is, and that from the way his eyes are alight with the glory of discovery, he seems to like it just as much, if not more so.

It is Nico’s soft unexpected answer that takes Will by surprise, _do you?_

Despite Will not knowing Nico all that well, he thinks that he would like to be constantly surprised by Nico giving him such small treasures as an unexpected answer. What is a better way to study a person than to study the way they talk?

There’s an unspoken agreement between them, in that Mythomagic is the best game in the whole wide world, rivaled only by Pokèmon in its glory. After that moment, conversation between the two of them flows like water, anything and everything is on the table for questions. It takes them ten minutes to get to class due to them constantly distracting the other with something else they didn't know they had in common.

For both of them, it is the first time they finally feel normal.

  
  


It doesn't last long, the other kids in their class are a lot bigger than them. Even taller than Will, who has always been the tallest in his classes. Their teacher is nice enough, but she made the mistake of telling the other children that the pair is younger, which leads to them being baby-talked for the first few weeks of class until they can prove they don't need it.

Being spoken down to rubs both of them the wrong way, but it's easy enough to brush off since they're used to it from adults. It bothers Will more than Nico, who is just happy that this school isn't like the one he was at before.

Day after day it's Will and Nico alone in their own little world. The staff joke, _they're attached at the hip,_ another cuts in _, we’ll need a saw to separate them,_ it makes Nico blush and look down. Will, on the other hand, beams; accepting all of the compliments and cooing from the adults.

During recess they don't leave each other either, other kids play tag and hopscotch, see how high they can swing and laugh at the woosh of air around them when they get high up. The two of them usually walk laps around the playground, walking closely they talk about anything they can think of, sometimes the backs of their hands brush and they jump apart. Nico looking more closed off and Will confused, but Will quickly works past Nico’s shell again, and it's as though nothing even happened. Sometimes Nico can be persuaded into the other children's games, whether it be soccer or jump roping, Will can usually drag him along to have some fun too.

* * *

Nico is newly ten when he has his first sleepover.

There’s Will, his most bestest friend in the whole world, who sits across from him on his bedroom floor. Decks of Pokemon and Mythomagic cards spread about around them like atoms and gases in a nebula.

Their legs are crossed and the pair is sat so close together that Will’s white socked feet brush up against Nico’s shin, and he can smell the floral almost vanilla scent of Will’s soap. His pretty honey colored hair curled around his face like hyacinths and every so often Will tucks the hair behind his ears, a secret little fidget of his, Nico’s learned. Nico's chest is tight with happiness and his face alight with smiles and giggles because Will, Will’s a dork- and it’s amazing.

They play for hours, board games, and Mythomagic; they read poetry, and Nico likes the way that the words fall from his lips, and the way constants catch in his mouth; Nico learns of the way Will’s tongue sticks out a little and rests between his lips when he’s concentrating on drawing a portrait of Nico with his eyes closed.

When it’s eventually bed time, they don’t sleep like Nico’s mother told them to when she walked out the door. They roll over, and Will climbs off Nico’s bed to lay beside him on the temporary blow up mattress in his room. Their shoulders push into the other persons a little, and there’s moonlight streaming in across the floor, covering the carpet in the soft glow of night.

They lay on their backs and stare up at the white of the ceiling; Nico thinks about how it might be nice to get some of those little star cutouts to put on the ceiling so the two of them could gaze at the stars when they’re supposed to be sleeping.

They whisper a hundred little things into the dark of Nico’s room, happy little stories that they’ve made up or heard somewhere else; there’s cheesy jokes that aren’t really all that funny, but it’s late and they’re tired so each joke sends them into hysterics; there’s a tinge of sadness as well, you can’t spend your whole life feeling so desperately alone and separated from everyone else in your age group and not share those feelings with someone who also gets it.

 _Promise me,_ Will lifts his hand up into the air above them with his pinky extended, _promise me, we’ll always be best friends even if we fight-_ _we always have to be friends again, okay?_

 _I promise,_ Nico raises his own hand and interlocks his pinky with Will’s.

They’re ten, and even though they’re mature for their age, there’s still the childish belief that a promise can’t be broken.

* * *

Nico is eleven, and his life is falling apart.

There was a freak accident at his mother’s work, and now the di Angelo's are having a closed casket funeral for Maria. Will goes, and Naomi comes too, he stands in the back, links his pinky with Nico’s because they made a promise and Will’s going to honor it.

Bianca is the only one who cries, but Will is pretty sure Nico’s father had tears in his eyes too.

Nico doesn't cry, but Will knows Nico, and Will knows that he wants to- tears for it just aren't there yet.

It's Nico who invites him over that night, there's no begging and no fight, it's one drawn out long please as Nico gazes brokenly into his father's face and then Will is allowed to stay. His mother scolds him beforehand, they just lost their mother, Will; don't make it any harder on them? He nods, because he’s a good son, and also he knows what he’s being told already.

There's pizza and Will realizes he’s never seen Nico’s father cook, and Will’s not sure he knows how. He wonders how many nights of eating out this one makes.

Will only managed a slice but it was more than anyone else in the family could handle. There's a few bites taken out of Nico’s, and his father manages to get down a half piece, and Bianca takes two bites and runs off up the stairs crying.

Their house is falling apart.

And maybe that’s when it starts, or maybe it started long before this and it was only the apex.

There are tears on Nico’s cheeks once Will gets out of the shower, and he can’t tell if Nico has just finished crying, or is trying not to. He sits in the window seat of his room; the same window seat they’ve spent a hundred days and nights in, playing games, telling stories, and doing homework. His back is against the one wall of it, and his eyes are gazing out across the street, an unseeing, thousand yard stare. And to Will, a bystander in Nico’s doorway, he looks so much older, like a soldier home from battle.

 _It’s a soft, you can cry if you want to,_ from Will, and Nico breaks.

Will crossed the room in large, determined strides and wraps his arms around Nico. He feels Nico’s smaller hands wrap themselves in the fabric of his shirt as he buries his head in the crook of Will’s shoulder. Sobs wrack his frame, and all Will can do is hold him and he feels so useless not being able to do more. He finds himself wishing that he believed in Gods and Mythology and that they were real so he could be an Orpheus for Nico and his mother. But those stories are nothing but myths and Orpheus lost his wife in the end anyhow but Will doesn’t feel any less useless knowing he can’t do anything.

Nico gasps from near Will’s collarbone, tighter, so Will struggles with his developing body to lift Nico up and move them a few steps back to the bed. Where he wraps himself around Nico in the same way his mother did to him all those years ago back in Texas. He just holds him until the tears stop, and he soothes him through the period where he is gasping for breath, holds Nico to his heart, and does his best.

It’s not particularly manly of either of them, but they’re not men. They’re just boys; boys who have no clue what they’re doing, and they’re grieving.

Will’s not exactly sure when it happens, or what the exact thing is that causes it, but in gazing down at Nico’s barely awake figure in his arms, he realizes he’s in love. Will didn’t even know he was gay, and now he’s in love with his probably straight best friend who’s Mom just died.

It’s funny how very much a moment can change a person.

Will let’s the feelings fill his lungs like a bubbly beverage. The carbonation of fondness and the weight of sadness fill his chest while he clutches Nico.

He puts his personal thoughts aside as best he can, Nico needs him right now.

* * *

Things slowly start to get a little better.

Sure, more often than not Nico feels like a stranger in his own home; his father is never home, and Bianca’s emotions have only gotten more out of hand as she tries to balance Nico, school and her popular group of friends.

She chooses her friends, which is fine by Nico because it’s not like he ever wanted her around their house anyway. To deal with their grief Nico’s family dopes themselves up, his father on work, Bianca on her friends, and Nico chooses Will.

He’s over at Will’s house just about every night, his mom’s singing career has taken off since their move and she travels around a little bit to play at the more “local” stadiums. There’s often leftovers in Will’s fridge and all they have to do is heat them up, but sometimes there’s not and Nico cooks. He’s thirteen now and he remembers all the times he would help his mother in their kitchen, rolling out dough for bread, stirring risotto, baking little zaleti for after the main course.

It’s helpful knowing how to cook when you’re more or less all alone in your life; or in Will’s case, it’s helpful to have a close friend who knows how to cook for you. They both learned quickly that it was better for both of them if Will generally avoided using anything in the kitchen, from him forgetting to add water to rice when boiling it, and putting a fork in the microwave; they decide it’s best if Nico cooks and reheats the leftovers they’re given.

If they’re not at Will’s house they’re at Nico’s.

When they spend time there Nico has to cook, there’s nobody in his house who leaves him leftovers to reheat. It’s not a bad thing, he really doesn’t mind; in all honesty he kind of likes it. Everytime it’s a memory from his childhood, each spice brings a whiff of bittersweet nostalgia with it. They eat, and whatever is left over is packed up and tucked into the fridge for whenever Bianca comes home, then it’s time for homework and bed.

For a few months, the little twin blow up mattress was basically a permanent addition to Nico’s room until they both got annoyed with how unfair it was that the other person had to sleep on it and Nico eventually bargained with Bianca to get her room.

She sleeps in their father’s room, Nico sleeps in her’s and Will sleeps in his. Everyone’s stuff is in someone else's room and it’s fine that way, it’s just the three of them most of the time and it’s a comfortable sort of cohabitation.

Nothing is perfect, in all honesty, everything is probably a mess.

But Nico’s grades are okay, and his sister still at least lives with him, and they have enough money from their father and Will’s mom every week to make everything work between the three of them. And there’s Will, his best friend forever. Everything is going as well as it can, even if Nico hardly talks to his biological family.

Everything is fine.

* * *

Nothing is okay.

Bianca’s body lies lifeless and pale in a poor imitation of sleep from within her coffin. Somebody has done their best to repair her face, it looks symmetrical enough and there’s so much makeup on it you can hardly see the unhealed stitches.

All Nico can think looking down upon his sister is that she isn’t really his sister.

He’s not really sure what he means by that, if he’s talking about all their fights over the years, her jealousy of him, the fact that they haven’t but hardly talked in the last five or so years; maybe Nico simply means that she doesn’t look like his sister, he’s not sure if anyone else can tell but he can and he only looks at her once in her coffin because he can’t stand it.

Will’s there, and Naomi too. She pets Nico’s head and places a kiss where his forehead and hairline meet, _Oh, Nico- bless your heart._

She mother's him, _if you need anything, give me a call, I’m more than happy to help- even if it's just a shoulder to cry on, alright, hun?_

He thanks her, tells her he’s fine and does his best to convince her it's true.

Will hugs him as well, he’d been there when Nico got the call. A drunk driver hit Bianca and a group of friends when they were driving home late at night; two dead.

Will’s hug, understandably, isn’t mothering like Naomi’s, it's tight and comforting and Nico has to push him away because he feels tears building and he doesn't want to cry here.

Will isn't taken aback by this, he knows how Nico works; and Nico knows that if he needs a shoulder to cry on, Will’s is always available.

When they lower her body into the ground Nico tries to convince himself that everything is fine. He throws a handful of dirt onto her coffin alongside his father, everything is fine.

It's fine, it's fine, it's fine.

It becomes a mantra in his mind, again and again he repeats himself in hope that the thought will stick. He doesn't know what to do with his hands so his thumb rubs back and forth on his opposite wrist until it's raw and red.

Thoughtlessly, Will grabs his fidgeting hand and gives Nico a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

Nico attempts to give Will a smile in thanks but the expression doesn't come so he instead just gives him a watery look. Nico extends out his pinkie for Will’s hand, and he wraps their smallest and most significant fingers around one another; _promise?_

Everything really will be fine.

Everything will be fine.

* * *

It’s slow progress for Nico, getting over Bianca’s death.

With his mother it was easier, he had so overwhelmingly loved her that there had been no doubt in Nico’s mind about how he felt in the wake of her death.

With Bianca, Nico’s feelings were by far more complicated.

Sure, it was obvious to Will that Nico loved her and Nico would always admit that without hesitation. But there was a dangerous piercing question that hung in the air after he said it, did Bianca ever love him? Or was he always the brother who stole the light and took attention away from her?

Will didn't have an answer to that, and Nico didn't either. It's hard to mourn someone when you're not sure how your relationship was actually defined, it's the reason it takes Nico so much longer to move past Bianca's departure.

Will is there for all of it, he does his best to comfort Nico through all of it.

Everything is suddenly a lot harder, there's a lot of pressure on the two of them. They need to pull decent grades in their senior year despite barely being sixteen, they've got to take care of themselves since both their parents aren't around much, and they've got to cope with another loss.

Will tries to push his feelings aside, he needs to be there for Nico- his best friend- nothing more. But there's a pull in the pit of his stomach and a buoyancy to his lungs that screams love anytime he's around Nico.

It's hard to deal with, it’s distracting and Will’s not even entirely sure he's gay.

  
  


He gets to test his theory that year for the first time at a high school graduation after party that Nico doesn't want to attend (they've never cared much for parties, but this was one Will didn't want to pass up). There’s alcohol for Will to blame the situation on if anything goes wrong and there's a boy who wants a makeout session with no strings attached.

Will can handle that.

Will has kissed girls before; he can remember playing a few rounds of spin the bottle in the basements of people's homes when celebrating their birthday parties. Truth or dare among a group of young pre-teens always resulted in someone getting hurt or two people practically making out.

So yes, Will has kissed girls before, and maybe he can even consider himself as having made out with them; but this is something different.

There's nobody around, no whooping and cat calling laughter as her hand catches in his hair and his trails along the softness of her arm or waist.

Instead, there's the steady strum of some new pop song leaking out of the house, there's the press of jagged angular hips into his own and the sounds of heavy breathing as Will’s back presses into the siding of the house.

He hears the harsh sound of panting into his ear, and the soft nip of teeth into the space where his neck and shoulder meet. Crickets chirp from somewhere within the tall grass of this stranger's backyard and the other boy rolls their hips together.

It's different than kissing all those girls not just because he's alone with them this time, but because it's a boy.

It's odd in its own way though, this kiss is no better than any of the others he’s had.

Different, but largely the same.

It's nice, he likes that this boy is a little taller than him, and he likes the press of his angular jaw into Will’s skin when he kisses hickeys into his skin.

But kissing girls is fairly nice too, he likes the softness of their jawline and the taste of chapstick on their lips. He likes the way they're shorter than him and the way they tend to kiss slower than this guy, unseeking of anything but a little attention.

It doesn't answer many of Will’s questions, if anything it really just creates more in the space between what he didn't know and the questions he’s answered.

Will presses his lips into the other boys a little harder, he tastes cheap beer and a little bit of an orange juice-vodka mix. He opens his eyes for a half second and sees dark hair before him.

He does his best to convince himself that this is Nico.

It doesn't stop him from wondering how actually kissing Nico would feel.

* * *

Everything evens out well enough and soon enough in such a way that both Nico and Will graduate on time with some of the highest honors available at their school.

Nico’s father doesn’t come, he hasn’t been home since Bianca’s funeral and it’s a life Nico is accustomed to by this point. Will’s mother is there, she’s beaming from the audience clapping and whistling when Will and Nico’s names are called despite the parents being told to hold off to the end.

When they go home later that day she makes them a cake. Will and Nico had both decided they didn’t want graduation parties, Nico’s father had still sent money for his and Naomi had still given Will the money she’d planned to use for his.

 _Just because you don’t want a party doesn’t mean I can’t spoil the both of you,_ Naomi kisses both of their foreheads as she sets a cake between the two of them, _I’m so proud of how far both of you have come and how strong,_ she ruffles Nico’s hair and kisses the top of Will’s head, _and smart both of you are._

Nico and Will have been applying for scholarships since tenth grade, they’ve got grants and certificates piled up for college from competitions they’ve won. There’s some letter being mailed to each of their houses everyday, go to this website to view your personalized education plan, and all those other marketing tactics that discuss social life and “affordable” classes.

They’ve received truly personalized letters too, they’re two kids who skipped two years of elementary school and graduated their highschool with full honors; colleges want them. There’s personalized scholarships as well, free room and board for a four year degree, others offer to pay for all their classes as well.

Most colleges have a rule about students under eighteen needing to dorm at the school or live with an RA; either way that almost guarantees they would need dormmates. Nico isn’t sure who brought it up first, it was probably the both of them in unison, he can’t recall; but there’s the bright idea that they should room together- they’ve basically lived together since thirteen, how much different could it be?

So they're going to go to school together, and they’re going to live together.

Nico thinks about how they’re practically married, and about how he always thought all those couples who went to college together were overly cliché.

His breath catches in his throat as he looks over to where Will is scrolling through a university website.

Couple?

His honey blonde curls catch in the sunlight from the window behind him and he looks like he’s wearing a crown of gold. There’s freckles across his cheeks, like splatters of paint on a canvas. He’s wearing an old hoodie from when their families went on vacation together, the sleeves are a little short and there’s fraying on the strings but it’s nostalgic too.

For some reason, it’s not all that hard for Nico to imagine falling in love with Will.

What it would be like to kiss him, to hold his hand, and to grow old with him.

Nico’s lungs feel constricted from within the restraints of his ribcage, is he in love with Will?

Nico thinks he might be sick.

* * *

There’s boxes stacked up against the one wall of the room, sharpie is written across the boxes; kitchen stuff, knick-knacks, textbooks, art supplies, and more. There’s Nico’s full name scribbled across a few, Niccolío, Will had scribbled while laughing in the middle of Nico’s living room. There’s William, written across a few in Nico’s elegant script.

Nico had been sitting on Will’s bedroom floor when he’d done it.

 _Why, why would you do that to me?_ Will had asked pulling shirts off hangers and folding them into a box half full with Will’s things from Nico’s house.

_Revenge, William, Revenge._

Now they sit right next to each other, watching Netflix on Will’s laptop from the carpeted floor of their new dorm room. A half eaten pizza sits in its open box a few feet away on an unopened box covered in little doodles and labeled “toothbrushes and other crap”.

Will and Nico are rested one next to the other with their backs pressed against the wall of what will eventually be their living area. They’re both half asleep with droopy eyelids and they still have to call Will’s Mom to tell her they got moved in okay.

Will grabs his phone from a few feet away and they do just that, they facetime her to show where they’ll be living and to prove that at the very least they've got their beds all put together for the night (Ikea’s a bitch). Nico toes a newly unpacked, and very visible hot plate under his bed at one point in order to avoid a lecture. Will tells his Mom goodbye and goodnight before they finally clean up the pizza and open the “toothbrush box”.

They brush their teeth, change their clothes and crawl into their respective beds. Nico makes a slightly bitter joke about his downgrade from a full to a twin and how he thought moving out was supposed to be more luxurious than living with your parents. Will laughs and stares up at the ceiling; _we should get little cut out stars to go with the twin beds, what do you think?_

_I was never allowed to have them, I asked at one point. Mamma always told me they would ruin the ceiling._

Will’s sheets make a noise and Nico interprets the sound as him shrugging; how well do you have to know someone to know what their shrug sounds like?

_They probably do absolutely wreck the ceiling, but hey, we bought a hot plate- might as well break some more college rules._

Nico laughs at their childish wants, _might as well._

Classes don't start for another week, so they spend their time unpacking and putting together the furniture they ordered.

 _Fuck Ikea,_ Will says surrounded by various manuals and different pieces of what Nico thinks is supposed to be a dresser or a nightstand.

_Want help?_

Nico pours olive oil into the pan he’s placed on the still cool hot plate, Will looks up to see Nico about to break what is probably the biggest college rule and and feels the stress melt away looking into the browns of his eyes.

_Yes, please?_

Nico moves to be beside Will in his mess of cheap wooden boards and picks up a piece of the manual Will had taken apart in his frustration. Will watches him read and has a flashback to sitting in Nico's room surrounded by mythomagic cards and scraps of paper from their drawing contest. It's hard to believe that this not yet man is the same little boy he was friends with all those years ago.

* * *

Eventually everything gets unpacked.

It’s slow work but by the end of the week they’ve managed to empty out all their boxes and find places for the things within around the apartment. Will’s stomach feels odd everytime he sees both of their toothbrushes next to each other in their holder and he finds himself wondering if Nico understands the significance of that.

Of course he doesn't.

They've had a toothbrush at the other person’s house for years now, Will spends time now every morning when he brushes his teeth trying to convince himself that them sharing a toothbrush holder means nothing.

It doesn’t stop Will from being absolutely head over heels for Nico.

While Nico is busy meeting up with some cousins who live in the area and checking out one of his classes, Will’s hitting the stores in search of little plastic stars. He buys two boxes of them and some fairy lights just to add to the aesthetics, and just to really drive the point home Will buys a collection of sheets and blankets for a fort.

When he gets back to their apartment his arms are laden with their reusable cloth bags filled with childish treasures. He opens everything in the middle of their floor and pulls other items they already had out from around the house. Will isn’t going to school to be an engineer, he’s not even all that crafty but scrolling through images of perfect blanket forts on his phone he knows that since it’s for Nico he’ll make one just as good as these.

He pours the little stars out so there’s constellations scattered across the floor of their dorm, the biggest stars are about the same size as his palm and the smallest ones can be balanced on the tip of his finger. Will pulls the backing off of each star and turns it on its face before doing the same to the next one. He thinks about all of the furniture that he and Nico have put together right around where he sits now, he thinks about the first time he went over to Nico’s house and they had mythomagic cards and snacks spread around them in a far less organized manner.

Rather quickly Will finds himself done with the stars, which are now flung across their ceiling in what’s a rather seemingly thoughtless manner (Will hid a few constellations in between using different sizes because he knew Nico would get a kick out of it).

Now, he’s only left with the rather unique problem of trying to figure out how to make the perfect blanket fort.

* * *

Nico leaves Percy and Jason behind at the restaurant as he makes his way to the school’s arts center, a hundred scholarships for nursing and law degrees and Nico chose art. He buries his hands into the pockets of his coat and shakes his head at the memory of his father’s voice over the phone when he told him.

_What about Will?_

The voice over the other end of the receiver was deep and a little raspy, in the sort of way that was good for songs and giving orders. Nico can hear the clinking of a glass or a mug in the background of the call as he feels the evening wind blow his hair in the backyard. There’s a pleasant orange and yellow color to the sky and Nico casually kicks at a blade of grass as he responds.

_He’s going to be a surgeon._

Nico can just barely make out the sound of his father taking a drink, _Sensible._

They’d both sat in silence on opposite ends of the receiver, usually after a minute or so they would tell the other goodbye and hang up. It had been this way twice a month for years now, Nico would call his father and they’d have arbitrary conversations over arbitrary things before they’d fail to communicate and end the call so they could get back to their own lifes.

_Papa, I-_

Nico wanted to tell him about Will, about how beautiful he was and how he might be in love with him even if they weren’t together. He wanted to curse his father about not being there to see the way Nico had grown, for not being there when he needed him. It didn’t matter how Nico’s father felt about him loving Will, he hadn’t had much of an emotional connection for years so all of their attachment was already gone. Nico wanted to do a lot of things in very little words, he wanted to ask why he loved Bianca more after their mother died, and why he quit coming home. Nico wanted to talk to his father in Italian and Greek, not English, the language of business and guests but any time he tried he was met with great resistance, why was that? Was it because he loved Nico’s mother so much that he’d grown to hate their entire culture because it reminded him of her, or was it because the relationship between the two of them was so frayed speaking plainly felt uncomfortable?

_Nothing, never mind. Goodbye?_

_Actually, I-I have some people you’d probably like to meet…_

A woman? Is that where he’d been all this time? Wooing her, living with her, telling her secrets in a wedding bed? Wait… he’d said people?

_I’ve gotten engaged Nico-_

Everything else became background noise, he hadn’t even had the decency to tell Nico he’d started dating around.

_...And one other thing, there’s a girl- her name’s Hazel… She’s your half sister, Niccolò._

_Don’t call me that._

He’d pushed the red end call button and sat there until the summer air had grown chilly and the sun was mostly gone from the sky.

Nico works his bottom lip in between his teeth and twists his ring as he makes his way towards the entryway to the building. There’s some older students passing out pamphlets and pieces of paper with the map of the building on them so people can find their rooms.

Some students slip by without taking any as they make their way to wherever they need to be, Nico gets by only having picked up a map on his way by before making his way to his first college class. He finds himself thinking childishly as he walks through the doors into the classroom, he remembers being less nervous as a kid when it came to starting a new school, because he’s had Will there with him.

Will would’ve been at their house right now, probably getting a head start on studying or at least just organizing all of his stuff for his first classes. Their house; god, what was wrong with him? Couldn’t he say that without feeling weak at the knees, it was just Will, they were just friends, Nico wasn’t gay.

...Okay, so what if he was? Will didn’t like him anyways so what was the point of Nico worrying over how it made him feel to see their shoes mixed together in the front closet, or to see Will’s things placed about their dorm.

Nico takes a seat towards the back, it’s not like he has to pay much attention, it’s a drawing 101 class.

_You would think if you were going to school for an arts degree, the school would understand you already know the basics._

Nico looks up to see a guy take one of the last empty seats, more specifically right next to him. He’s got dark hair and when their eyes meet for a brief moment when he tosses Nico a smile, Nico thinks staring at him is kind of like looking into a lake. His eyes are a greenish color, but there’s a golden amber brown color at the center of his eye which makes one feel like they can see the bottom of the crystal clear water.

He’s not much taller than Nico, maybe only an inch or two and he’s wearing a diamond stud earring and what appears to be eyeliner. He places a very expensive looking jacket over the back of his chair and sits down.

_Mitchell, fashion degree._

Nico gives him another glance over, he’s so obvious, _Nico; animation- also, I like your shoelaces._

Mitchell’s eyebrows knit themselves together as he looks at Nico, he switches his focus to his shoes which are a pair of wedge boots with a zipper at the ankle and no laces. Nico can see the moment of realization dawn on his face.

_Thanks, I stole them from a unicorn. Wouldn’t it be better if they were rainbow?_

_I think so, but you’re the fashion expert._

Mitchell gives him another smile, and Nico can feel himself being studied by the other’s kaleidoscope eyes. There’s a quiet moment, the stumbling silence of two strangers figuring out what to say next.

Michell speaks first, and he’s more bold than Nico gave him credit for, _are you interested in going on a date?_

 _I-i’ve never…._ Nico makes a general gesture at everything.

 _What? Been on a date with a guy?_ Mitchell smirks in and Nico knows most people would fall to their knees after a look like that, _I can show you the ropes, I’m not worried._

Will isn’t interested in me, Nico thinks, _Alright._

 _Alright? Cool!_ Mitchell pulls out his phone and is already turning it towards Nico before he talks again, _Can I have your number?_

Nico pulls out his own, less sparkly phone.

* * *

Will is trying to figure out how to properly rig up the computer in the blanket fort when Nico gets home.

He can hear the sound of keys being set down and shoes being taken off before a sudden, _Holy shit!_

Will does his best to smother a laugh at Nico’s reaction, and sets the computer’s cable next to the stack of dvds and hard drives. The floor is nice against his legs and the decision to put Nico’s down filled comforter first definitely paid off.

Nico’s head pops in from where the opening to the tent is, _this is awesome! Is this what you’ve been doing while I was gone? I should leave you home alone more often if this is the sort of thing I get when I return!_

_Please don't, it was truly a tragic experience._

Nico mutters something about Will being a drama queen and crawls further inside until he’s curled up among all the blankets and pillows Will had left free for their use. Nico hasn’t stopped blabbering about how excellent the fort is since he crawled inside, there's more than enough space for a third person who shares Will’s extreme height. The fairy lights loop around the top of the space and a little bit on the outside, the computer sits atop a stack of doodled on, empty moving boxes.

Nico looks over to him with a sense of childlike wonder which is more rewarding than anything Will could have hoped for.

Nico’s next words do somehow manage to make the situation even better, _where should we order takeout from?_

An hour later they’re still in the pillow fort eating food from their favorite cantonese place and arguing over who gets to finish the milk bread. ‘My Neighbor Totoro’ plays on the T.V. and they watch Satsuki look for Mei among a field of flowers.

Everything is wonderful.

Nico is curled up on his side watching the end credits with little dancing drawings and single frame shots of the characters doing various activities.

Will gets up to switch the movie to ‘Princess Kaguya’ or ‘Ponyo’ and it’s amidst the casual conversation of the moment when everything goes wrong for Will.

_I have a date this Friday evening._

* * *

Mitchell, Nico decides, is really nice.

They had gone out for dinner and a movie and now they were walking along a shopping district eating ice cream. There was a fairly warm breeze blowing about, it ruffled Nico’s hair and made the rope lights tied between the street lamps sway a little in time with the trees.

People walk past them on the sidewalk, caramel colored light spills out from the shop windows and casts a glow on the ground and the sides of people’s faces. They walk in silence but it’s not awkward or boring, they’re both content enough at the moment to just exist together. Nico doesn’t feel the pressure of romance around Mitchell, it’s not that he doesn’t like guys (after thinking about how he might have fallen in love with Will he’s kinda-sorta tested himself, and sure, he couldn’t look Will in the eyes for two days after his first experience with gay porn but at least he had an answer). It’s just, despite how nice he is, Nico isn’t sure he likes Mitchell.

Nico’s eyes catch a glint of gold from the bracelet around Mitchell’s wrist and it makes his heart hurt.

Because gold is the color of Will, the color of his hair, and it’s the way his skin looks beneath the sun. It’s the color of fairy lights in a pillow fort, leaves laying on a playscape in autumn, and the worn off words on Will’s favorite blue hoodie. Gold is the color of a hundred- of a thousand things, and each one of those is Will; from the hue of a wheat field to the precious metal itself or a citrine gem.

_Hey-_

_So I’ve been thinking-_

They both shoot the other a flabbergasted sort of look before they start laughing and arguing about who can talk first. Nico wants Mitchell to go first so he can say whatever he wants before Nico absolutely ruins the atmosphere.

_Okay, so don’t get me wrong, the date has been amazing- you’re amazing-_

Nico feels like he knows where this is going, but…

 _Right; but I don’t feel like we really,_ Mitchell makes a meshing gesture with his hands, _err- at least I mean not in a romantic way, so-_

 _Before we agree to “just be friends” and all that,_ Nico feels brave right now, _and because you admitted to being a bit of a deviant earlier, can we do something first?_

_I didn’t take you for ‘the first date type’?_

Nico turns to face him fully and worries his bottom lip between his teeth, _I’m not usually-_

_But…_

Mitchell mocks him from earlier and Nico responds with a smile, _but, there’s this other guy- and I feel so stupid right now, I don’t even know if he’s interested in men…_

 _But you just can’t think of anyone else you’d be interested in, and even when you try to get out there,_ Mitchell makes a grand gesture at himself, _your mind is still on him and all the wonderful things about him despite not knowing if he’s straight?_

There you go, Nico thinks, leave it to Mitchell to totally understand everything.

_And- I’m not letting you off the hook that fast- you thought maybe it wasn’t a big deal and a date would be fine, because you’ve never gone out with a guy before- because you’re so hung up over him- and now that you’re on the date, and you’ve got the option, you want to double check yourself because your not sure if you’re not actually attracted to other guys or if you don't feel attraction because it’s not him. How’d I do?_

Nico is sure that his chest is absolutely flushed from embarrassment right now, _you’re amazing._

 _I know, it’s a gift- and to answer your question,_ Mitchell gestures around with his index finger, _this is something a lot of people go through which is why I get what’s going on and I’ll totally help you- if, if you can answer one question._

_Sure, anything._

_Am I a fucking bet?_

Nico busts out laughing at Mitchell, he’s managed to make himself look genuinely offended by Nico’s mere presence and he’s become “that bitch” ™ all in one line.

_No, Lacey, you’re not a fucking bet to me._

They’re both laughing as Mitchell grabs his wrist and pulls him off into a little side alley along the mainstreet, the golden light’s still visible from where they end up and Nico can still feel the warm wind ruffling his hair.

He gives Mitchell a confused look, _right here?_

_You just want to make out before we agree to just be friends, right?_

Nico nods at Mitchell from where he’s pressed against the wall, _true._

They both start laughing, and Mitchell gives Nico a bit of a hard time for obviously being a virgin. He leans in so there’s barely a hair's breadth of space between their lips, _you have at least kissed people before, right?_

Nico knows the second that Mitchell pushes his leg between Nico’s own that he’s definitely interested in guys. Nico swallows hard and can feel his neck move from the force of it, and he knows Mitchell can probably feel the way his heart is beating in his chest. Nico doesn’t even have the ability to respond properly so he just does his best to nod from up against the wall.

Mitchell laughs, _well, at the very least, you’re not totally straight._

The blush spreads up from Nico’s chest and another patch blooms across his cheekbones too.

A pair of rose petal soft lips meet his own.

Yeah, men are hot.

Nico closes the front door behind himself and slides his shoes off using his feet. He picks them up and holds them in one hand while using his other hand to try and tame his hair down some. He places the shoes in the front closet while he listens to Will tap away at keys on his computer.

Nico knew there was a lot of work involved with becoming a doctor, but he didn’t know that after just a week of school there would be this much work already. There’s papers scattered about on Will’s bed and a little bit on the floor, he sits with his back pressed against his bed and his feet outstretched towards Nico’s.

Will looks up in time to see Nico throw his keys into the little bowl they have on top of Nico’s dresser, _how was your date? Was she nice?_

It’s a perfectly innocent question from behind his laptop, there’s no malice or hate in the words but it hurts Nico tonight for some reason.

Nico bites his lip and runs a hand through his hair, before feeling bold and reaching out, _hey, Will?_

 _Yeah?_ Perfect, waiting acceptance.

_I like boys._

There’s a flash of emotion across Will’s eyes, something Nico can't possibly read despite having known him all these years, _oh... okay._

Will’s voice sounds strained, his throat seems tight around the words like he’s forcing himself to be okay with them- Nico had never considered what he’s do if Will was homophobic. Just his luck, his best friend for his whole life not only doesn’t like him back but is probably homophobic and wont want to be friends with him anymore.

Right, I'm going to go shower now.

Okay.

His voice is still strained.

Just Great, good job, Nico.

You broke him.

* * *

It's days later when it happens.

They haven't been necessarily avoiding one another, it's cohabitation. They're both there working towards common goals without ever bothering to make any emotional connection at the time.

 _I’m sorry,_ they both rush the words and a thousand apologies rushing to fill the space between them on the couch.

_What are you sorry for?_

_I’m sorry if I made things awkward because I told you I’m gay- look I already talked to Jason and I can move out-_

_I made it weird._

_No, Will, it wasn't you, look I get it, you're uncomfortable with the-_

He sees Will shake his head, blonde curls bouncing along the side of his head, you're wrong. There's a hair's breadth of a moment between them, Will’s lungs feel like they're full of helium.

He presses his lips to Nico’s.

It's a quick peck, over in only a few seconds.

_I like you, a lot. Fuck, Nico, I've liked you since middle school._

_Oh._

_Yeah, oh._

_So when I came out, you weren't upset because I was gay?_

Will’s turned his head away from Nico and he stares at the floor near his feet, _I was upset because I didn't know how to make a move faster, I wasted so much time._

_Hey Will?_

_Yeah?_ Perfectly accepting.

_I like you too._

Will crashes their lips together again. But it's not like all those collisions he shared with other boys and girls at parties, there’s no smashing of lips, or hands that wander a little too far. Nico doesn't taste like watered down alcohol but something softer and warm, Will thinks it might be tea.

He thinks he’s in love again, with the same boy, all these years later.

Nico’s lips move against his and Will forgets how to breathe.

He is, he definitely is.

* * *

It’s way later than Will is normally up, but the city lights cast yellow tinted light in through the space between the blinds above his bed. Nico’s pressed up against him in order to avoid falling off the bed, his dark eyes swirl and moonlight reflects off parts of his iris.

Little green tinted glowing stars are pressed into the dark ceiling, there’s blankets still out from when Will had built the blanket fort. They’re draped over the foot of Nico’s bed, and he’d snagged the little dog pillow Will had bought too.

The fairy lights had been restrung on the wall above their heads, and their little lights were alight amongst all the other glowing and bright things the world had offered them tonight.

Nico rolls a little and stretches his body as best he can without falling off, he then sits up and adjusts himself so he’s propped up on one elbow above Will’s head. He runs his free hand through Will’s hair playing with the little strands made of gold.

“So much for taking it slow,” Will presses a kiss into Nico’s skin as best as he can from his position.

Nico yawns and nods, “What are you talking about? Eight years is the longest foreplay I’ve ever heard of.”

His smile seems to glint in the dark and Will lightly pinches his hip because he’s being way too cocky about the situation. Nico places little kisses to his hairline and spreads out apologies between them, his hands never stop their lulling motion in Will’s hair.

“I hated myself when I first realized I liked you, your mom had just died and you were crying into my shirt and I thought I was such an awful person for being happy that I could hold you even though your mom had just died.”

Nico’s hands don’t falter, they run steady and true through Will’s hair throughout the declaration.

“I didn't even realize I loved you until high school was almost over, but I fell in love with you all the way back when we were kids. Remember when we had our first sleepover? All I could think about was how nice your shampoo smelled and how soft and warm your skin was when your knees touched mine,” Nico adjusts his legs so that his one knee rests against the flesh of Will’s thigh, until in a mere second both his petting motion and knee are gone, “Oh! Uh- look I didn’t mean- well I did, but you don't have to-”

“I love you too,” Will pulls Nico back to him, brings his knee back to where it was resting previously and kisses the palm of his hand, “Nico, I've been in love with you since fourth grade- maybe this is a little fast, but with a few adjustments we’ve basically been living like a married couple since thirteen- so no, it isn't too fast for me. Like you said, eight years of foreplay.”

Usually that sort of a thing would get a rise out of Nico, either a small laugh or a snarky comment but he’s silent. Will turns to look up at him and there’s an odd look in his eyes, the golden light reflects and refracts around the room and across Nico’s olive skin. It’s beautiful, so much emotion captured in a single moment, Will can’t help but think it would make the best photograph ever.

And then the first tear falls.

They’re the quiet sort of tears, the ones that sort of drip down your face and fall from your cheeks with nothing but a slightly different breathing pattern from you. Will sits up further to pull Nico into his chest and mutters soothing, not quite nonsense admists some questions.

“You know,” Will kisses the crown of Nico’s raven black hair, since the rest of his face is buried into Will’s chest plate, “most people cry during their first time, not after.”

Nico looks up at him with teary eyes and reddened cheeks, he’s stopped crying at Will’s words and now just sort of looks at him with tear stained cheeks, “Don’t be mean.”

Will can’t help it, he starts laughing, “I’m not being mean, I’m just making an assessment.”

“Shut up,” Nico has now taken to laughing with his face buried in Will’s chest instead of crying.

Will continues to tease him, picking on him a little bit for switching emotions so fast, and bothering him about how tired he is.

Will might have pressed his luck a little too far because Nico ends up being a little snarky back, “You can get up to shut the blinds and turn those lights off.”

Nico gestures at the fairy lights and the switch is all the way across the room for them.

“Fine, fine,” Will climbs out of bed and grabs a pair of sweats out of his drawer while also throwing a hoodie at Nico because he doesn’t want to be woken up by a cold Nico in a few hours.

He makes his way across the room and then makes his return back towards Nico with the lights now shut off, a pair of Nico’s sweats (Will wouldn’t have bothered to get him his own pair, but Will’s would have just fallen off Nico) and a pair of Nico’s socks for him as well.

Nico’s sitting upright in his bed with one leg dangling over the edge and the blanket, which is falling over the edge a decent bit, pooled around his waist. He’s wearing the light grey hoodie with the yellow and green insignia embroidered onto the front, his hair is fluffy and messy upon the top of his head and it just further proves to Will how tired Nico is.

Will throws Nico’s clothes down next to him on the bed and leans forward so that their noses and foreheads press together, “You’re seriously okay, right?”

Nico nods as well as he can, and then turns his head to place a soft kiss to Will’s lips, “I’m fine.”

Will nods and backs up to place a kiss to Nico’s forehead, “Want to talk about it?”

“Not right now,” Nico shrugs and reaches for his socks, “Maybe tomorrow.”

Will makes his way to shut the blinds and then climb back into bed with Nico, who’s decided pants aren’t necessary and is instead wearing Will’s hoodie and socks. There’s still a mild concern of Will having to deal with a cold Nico at three in the morning, until Nico curls up against Will so that his face is buried into the curve of his neck. Nico will be just fine.

“So…” Will moves his hands up and down Nico’s back in soothing motions, “I guess it was pretty dumb to buy two beds, we’ll have to invest in a bigger one.”

Nico laughs against the side of Will’s neck, “We’ll have to take care of that tomorrow.”

He places a little kiss to the place where Will’s neck and shoulder meet, “but for now? Sleep.”

**Author's Note:**

> A wonderful thanks to my beta readers, @notpjo and @chewing-pink-bubblegum from Tumblr!  
> Without the both of you this wouldn't have been possible!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [@the-ghost-king](https://the-ghost-king.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, [here's the playlist for this fic, enjoy!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5UxOnH2kCPy9JM6YGhe1yZ?si=YBnBRf2rRX6VB9gXPA8hHw)


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